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Reath Silas jolted awake. He’d fallen asleep on a pile of holocrons in the Jedi Archive, and had dropped right into the same dream again—the one where Azlin Rell stands over him laughing, the golden shield Cohmac had given him cracked down the center, rendered useless except as a testament to Reath’s failure.
He reached over to touch the shield reflexively. He knew dreams couldn’t affect reality, but its cool, unblemished metal beneath his fingers eased his anxiety. Although he didn’t expect to face any enemies in the Jedi Archives, he liked having the shield with him. Perhaps it was silly, but it made him feel like himself. He wasn’t even sure what that meant, exactly, but he knew it was true.
The holocron he’d been viewing was still playing, an old Mon Calamari Jedi Master droning on about lightsaber combat forms. Before he’d fallen asleep, he’d been hopeful he’d find something about the echo stones, but the only artifacts this master had mentioned were theories and ancient knowledge.
Reath rubbed his cheek where the corner of a holocron had left an imprint, and decided he needed a break. He shut off the holocron a little more forcefully than was necessary and added it to the growing stack of glowing blue cubes that had proven to be useless dead ends.
If Amadeo, or Master Cohmac, or even Vernestra had been here, they would have told him they believed he would find the answers they needed to defeat the Nameless and end the Nihil’s reign of terror in the outer rim. Just a few days ago, Reath would have believed them. But he kept hearing Azlin’s voice in his head, taunting him.
“You’re not willing to do what’s necessary, Reath, but I can help you. I can show you the way.” That’s what Azlin had said during their last visit. In the moment, the old man had sounded desperate, and perhaps, jealous of Reath’s renewed relationship with Master Cohmac.
But in Reath’s mind, Azlin’s voice had become taunting and mocking. Reath knew he was doing important work, but research was slow, and the Nameless were still out there killing Jedi with impunity. One of them could be feeding on a Jedi right now, for all Reath knew. The thought made his stomach churn.
He’d been scouring the archives ever since they’d returned from their quest to find the Tolemite home world, and so far, he’d found nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Okay, true, it had been less than two weeks, and he’d had plenty of other things to take care of in that time, like helping Amadeo work through his grief over losing Master Lox, and reporting to the Council, and talking to Cohmac and Azlin, but still. He should have been able to find something by now. A clue! A hint! A whisper! Anything!
Reath yawned again and reached his arms up to stretch. Maybe, if he could just get a good night’s sleep again, he wouldn’t feel so frustrated. But if he were honest with himself, it wasn’t just his lack of progress that was bothering him.
He’d thought he’d made peace with Master Cohmac’s return and whatever the kriff his relationship with Azlin was, but then, two nights ago, he’d started having that same dream. He knew he should talk to someone about it, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not yet. Not after he’d already spent so much time talking to Master Cohmac about their relationship. Why did this stuff have to be so hard? Why couldn’t he just focus on what was important right now, which was finding the Rod of Ages?
Reath pushed his chair back, preparing to stand up. In doing so, he knocked a holocron off the desk he was using. It clattered to the floor and activated.
“Hello, Rooper,” the hologram of a woman in Jedi robes said. She wore her hair pulled back, and had a small diamond mark in the center of her forehead. A circular object was visible behind her shoulders. Reath froze, one arm outstretched to pick up the holocron. He glanced up at the golden shield sitting to the side on the desk, and then back to the woman.
His heart leapt. Was this the same shield, or just a similar one? Had he just stumbled on the shield’s original owner? Quickly, he retrieved the holocron from the floor and began the recording over again.
“Hello, Rooper,” the woman said a second time. “If you’re watching this recording, it means I am one with the Force now. Perhaps it’s overly sentimental of me to create a final message for you, my brave, smart Padawan, but the Force guides me to do so, and so here I am.”
The woman paused to take the shield from its place on her back and held it up. “As I record this, I’m about to hide this shield for you to find as part of your Trials. I know that you will find it. I know that you will help the people you will meet as you search, and I know that you will become a Knight before the week is over. And let me just say that I am so, so proud of the Jedi you’ve become. The Jedi you’ve always been.”
Reath held his breath as he watched. Who was Rooper, and if she had indeed inherited the shield from this Master, what had happened to her, and how had the shield ended up with a trader on Batuu? His mind swam with questions, but the mystery Jedi continued speaking.
“This shield that my master gave to me, and his master gave to him, and so on, is a powerful symbol of what the Jedi are meant to be: protectors. Guardians of peace and justice. There will always be conflict in the galaxy, but there will always be people willing to help. People like you. Remember, Rooper, you are the shield. This—” she held the shield up as she spoke, “—is a useful tool. But without someone who knows how to wield it, it’s nothing more than a hunk of metal.”
Reath placed his hand on the crest at the center of the shield, tracing the raised motif. How incredible it was to touch such an old piece of Jedi history. How incredible it was that he stumbled upon this holocron. No, not stumbled—not with the Force guiding him.
The recording of the Jedi woman continued. “You will make mistakes. You will almost certainly hurt people you tried to help. Forgive yourself. Try again. And know that no matter what happens or how far apart we are, I am always with you. And perhaps more importantly, the Force is always with you.” The woman smiled at that, and then replaced the shield in its harness on her back. “Trust in your instincts, Rooper. Trust in the Force, and walk in the light, my Padawan.”
The recording ended in a blip of static. Reath sat there for a moment, stunned. He checked the holocron's metadata on his datapad and saw that it had been recorded by a Jedi named Silandra Sho—he'd seen her name come up in reference to a large battle on Jedha a century ago, which is why he'd searched the archives for her, but he hadn't expected to find something about the shield he now carried.
He set the holocron aside and picked up the shield. Master Sho had said, “You are the shield,” to her Padawan. The words sparked something in Reath. He'd always struggled with wanting to hole up in the archives, leaving the adventuring to others, but now he knew that he could do both research and adventure capably. Master Cohmac had tried to tell him that a hundred times, but Reath had never been able to believe it. But now, with his hand on this shield, the cool metal singing under his fingertips, he finally knew it to be true.
But then he spotted Amadeo bounding toward him, waving excitedly. “Vernestra sent me to make sure you ate lunch,” the young padawan said in a loud whisper.
On cue, Reath's stomach growled. “One of these days, I'm going to make Vernestra tell me how she does that,” he said.
Both boys laughed, and Reath let Amadeo lead him toward the mess hall. But even though they were only going to lunch, Reath attached the shield to the harness on his back, grateful for the way it had helped saved Amadeo from the Nameless a few short weeks ago.
He would carry it with him wherever he went, a reminder of Master Sho's words to her Padawan. “Remember, Reath,” he thought, “you are the shield of the Jedi.”